Un meurtre sans importance

This clever spoof has bosses, mugs, dames, robbers, state troopers--and corpses galore. Everything needed for a neat crime take-off.

Edward G. Robinson has great fun heading a stable of fine character actors from the late 30's in this surprise black and white treat, directed by Lloyd Bacon.

Just be on guard for what's stashed under the upstairs bed--not to mention what's hiding in the closet!

"A Slight Case of Murder" is a delightful gangster comedy written by the legendary Damon Runyon and directed by Lloyd Bacon. It's also a nice change of pace for star Edward G. Robinson who gets to display his comedic talents as he spoofs his gangster image.

Remy Marco (Robinson - in an obvious spoof of his "Rico" character in "Little Caesar") is a bootlegger who has made his fortune running illegal beer during prohibition. When prohibition ends, Marco proudly announces that he's going to be strictly legit, believing that he will no longer need strong arm tactics, and that he will continue to rake in the money from legal sales. What he doesn't realize is that because he's never actually tasted his own brew, is that it tastes awful.

Now that the public can buy well brewed better tasting beer legally, Marco sees his fortune disappear over the ensuing four years. On the verge of bankruptcy, he finds himself in debt over a half a million dollars and has to deal with two predatory bankers Post (John Litel) and Ritter (Eric Stanley) who are trying to foreclose on him.

Marco's daughter Mary (Jane Bryan) has returned home and plans to marry the bumbling State Trooper son, Dick Whitewood (Willard Parker) of business tycoon Paul Harvey. Marco and his wife Nora (Ruth Donnelly) plan to host an engagement party at their country house in Saratoga. What he doesn't know is that a rival gang has heisted $500K from bookies and are holed up in Marco's house.

With his three stooges, Mike (Allen Jenkins), Lefty (Edward Brophy and Gip (Harold Huber), Marco learns that four of the five gangsters have been murdered and their bodies left in a guest bedroom while the fifth hangs around trying to escape with the money. The satchel containing the money is found by an orphan with the distinguished moniker of Douglas Fairbanks Rosenbloom (Bobby Jordan), who had been brought by Marco from the orphanage for the weekend.

And then the fun starts.

Robinson proved that he could play comedy and ranked this film among his favorites. But Warner Bros. saw him as a gangster and so he had difficulty breaking away from that genre. After he left Warners in the early forties, he turned in a number of great performances notably in "Double Indemnity" (1944) and two FRitz Lang classics, "The Woman in the Window" (1944) and "Scarlett Street" (1945). Oddly enough, he returned to Warners Bros. in 1948 to play gangster Johnny Rocco in "Key Largo" (1948).

In the early days of his career, the late great Edward G.Robinson, often took on roles which for him were a change of pace. Here is a good example. One of the most memorable character roles he portrayed, was the tough guy character "Rico" in 'Little Ceasar' ruler of his tiny empire. However that was when gunmen ruled the town and bootleg whiskey was all the rage. However as with every era, Prohibition was soon repealed and as in this film, the bootlegger went straight. Edward G. Robinson is now tough, legitimate and respectable, Remy Marco. Together with his wife, Mary Marco (Jane Bryan) daughter, Nora Marco (Ruth Donnelly) and his old gang plan on making a go of the new lifestyle, a brewery, making domestic beer. However, trappings of his former life follow. Several hoodlums plan on ambushing him at his Saratoga home, but end up as excess baggage and Marco must deal with them as well as an uninvited State Trooper and son-in-law visiting him at that very moment. In addition, Marco has invited a juvenile delinquent and 'Dead End Kid' Douglas Fairbanks Rosenbloom (Bobby Jordan) to come and learn how to be an upstanding citizen. The hilarity of this film is a mad-cap series of quick changing comical situations which invite humor only if one remembers how serious the 1930's were. Much more interesting is the quick thinking dialog between the characters as they adapt to life after criminal prohibition. ****

A Slight Case of Murder had its origins on the Broadway stage where this play by Damon Runyon and Howard Lindsay flopped miserably with only 69 performances in the 1935 season. It certainly adapted better for the screen when Warner Brothers bought it for one of their gangster stable, in this case Edward G. Robinson.

The story concerns a gangster Remy Marko who is trying to go straight and get out of the bootleg beer racket now that Prohibition has been repealed. It was a problem faced by any number of people who were not Lucky Luciano or Meyer Lansky.

In Robinson's case he's decided to go legitimate and brew beer legally. Of course no one has the heart to tell him that the stuff he's been peddling for years has been nothing but swill, not even his family, Ruth Donnelly and Jane Bryan, nor his closest associates Allen Jenkins, Harold Huber, and Ed Brophy.

While all this is going Robinson and the family and friends go to his summer home near the Saratoga racetrack where a big robbery of the bookie's money has taken place. This was in the days before the para-mutual machines and track bets were taken at the sight by legal bookmakers. The gang decides to hide out in what they think will be Robinson's deserted home.

Daughter Jane Bryan is romancing state trooper Willard Parker, a prospect the going straight Robinson still finds appalling. No less so than Paul Harvey, Parker's nervous blue-blood father.

All these elements mix well for a very funny screen comedy. Robinson who was really getting tired of all the gangster parts, seems to be enjoying himself, referring to himself constantly in the third person, and earning quite a few laughs and keeping up with some of the best scene stealers around. Ruth Donnelly keeps up very well who most of the time remembers she's now supposed to be respectable, but every so often slips back to her familiar background.

The guy who really is funny here is Paul Harvey. He's mixing with people he's not used to and it's putting quite an evident strain on him.

One of the running gags in A Slight Case of Murder is how bad the beer Robinson makes. He never drinks himself so he doesn't know and no one is brave enough to tell him. Damon Runyon who probably sampled every kind of illegal liquor available during Prohibition, knew well the kind of rot gut that was peddled. The classier places imported stuff from across the border, but the dives used whatever they could get. Marko's lousy beer was something drinking people during Prohibition knew well from. A Slight Case of Murder is one of the few films that ever dealt with that fact albeit in a comic way.

Though the plot situations are certainly dated, the talent of this very good cast is timeless.

'A Slight Case of Murder' may never have been a very popular film. But it's full of weird, comic characters, and the extremely well written textbook brings out the very best of one of the greatest screen actors ever - Edward G. Robinson. The film gives you everything you expect from a sophisticated comedy of the Thirties, and I'll never forget when I - by chance - saw it first, on TV, about twenty years ago, along with my little sister, sitting on the sofa in the living room of our parent's house. When the film was over, we looked at each other, a bit helpless, unable to push a "backward"-button, and my sister said: "You know what. As far as I'm concerned, this film could have been going on for ever." And that was exactly what I felt.